Plant Therapy
by KidaNoche
Summary: When Phoenix Wright mourns, he does it wright- er, right.  T for brief language only


Well I have been gone for QUITE a while. I started working on an update for Behind the Scenes a while ago, but I haven't touched it for a while. I'm going to try to come back. I've changed my URL, by the way. I used to be Subaki-Chan, but now I am KidaNoche.

I started playing Phoenix Wright and of course fell in love, but I was disappointed by the lack of grieving (in a sort of COME ON that wasn't very realistic kind of way), so here you go. Contains a few spoilers, of course, so tread with caution. This could be counted as romantic or not.

One last thing- I just threw this oneshot together so it might not be of the best quality, but I have to go work on NaNoWriMo now... Enjoy~!

-/-

When I walk into Wright and Co. Law Offices the afternoon of September thirteenth, the first thing I see is my assistant, Maya, watering Charley. Without consulting me first, my mouth opens of its own accord.

"Maya!" It's an exclamation filled with shock and indignation, and it sounds a bit like it would if you had caught the dog digging into the trash and eating chocolate. She jumps and drops the watering can, looking up at me with stricken doe-in-the-headlight eyes. The metal clangs dully as it hits the ground, and water spills over the floor.

"N-Nick?" she manages, staring at me. I open and close my mouth, my own shout having startled me. "Is everything okay?"

"… Yeah," I concede, after a moment. "Yeah, everything's fine."

"Are you sure? Did you already water it today? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no, it's," I pause, looking back at Charley. "It's fine, sorry. I don't know what, uh," I stop, looking down. "Anyway, did you finish sorting the files from Mia's case?"

Maya nods, staring at the floor suddenly. Her eyes are downcast. "Yes, they're all on your desk. I wasn't sure if you wanted to look through them, or—" She fails to finish, and shrugs.

"Thanks, that makes things a lot easier."

"Is there anything else you need me to do?"

I consider Maya, who is still eyeing the floor as though it is the most captivating thing she's ever seen. She's Mia's younger sister, a spirit medium in training, seven years younger than I am. She determined to be my assistant in light of the solving and closure of her sister's murder. She's a chipper sort, and easily adapted to urban life, something you wouldn't expect from someone who'd been raised in a mountain village and who wears the kind of acolyte clothes that she does , talking about spirits and E.S.P. and all this psychic mumbo-jumbo. She loves celebrities and is easily excited, particularly attached to a children's show, Bronze Samurai or something like that, and she has a bit of a devious streak.

And she almost never seems to dwell on Mia's death.

It happened just over a week ago, and Maya seems as content as ever, humming tunes off-key and stuffing her face with burgers and gluing herself to the TV screen. Sometimes I peer in on her and see her staring off into space, her eyes glassed over, but then she notices me and wipes her eyes and smiles as if it was nothing.

I shake my head and sigh.

"Why don't you, uh, design a logo for the new Wright and Co. Law Offices?"

She clasps her hands together, looking up at me brightly. "R-really, Nick? You mean it? You'd trust me with that?"

I feel a bead of sweat running down the back of my neck, but I force my unease aside. "Yeah, of course. With your imagination—"

"Oh, thanks, Nick!" She hugs me tightly, and I momentarily lose my breath. "You won't be sorry, I promise!" She runs into another room, and shortly afterwards I hear the rustle of paper and the squeal of markers. I shake my head again and go to clean up the spilled water. Afterwards, I sit down at my desk, putting a hand to my mouth and leaning back in my chair (not Mia's anymore: I have to get used to that), settling in to look over the files one last time.

"Hey, Nick?"

I look up at Maya's face peeking in through the doorway. "Yes?"

"You sure it's all right?"

I look down at Mia's picture, paper-clipped to a 'victim report', and close my eyes. "Yeah, everything's fine."

-/-

The next morning, I arrive at the office early. I find a note from Mia taped to the door— _Nick, I think I caught a bad cold. I won't be in today. The logo's on your desk! Can we have burgers when I come back? :), Mia._ I chuckle to myself, stop, and peer at the back of the note. _PS, I sneezed on the note… better wash your hands!_

A quick trip to the bathroom and half of my soap bottle later, I finally sit at my desk to examine Maya's logo. It's there, all right, but underneath a giant copper watering can. I stare at it.

_Why did Maya leave this here? It goes next to Charley._

What did she mean by leaving this on my desk? She is perfectly free to water her sister's plant.

I look at Charley.

My mentor's plant.

_Mia's_ plant.

Maya will always have more of Mia than I ever will. Maybe she's smarter than I give her credit for. I haven't allowed myself to think much about Mia and her death since the trial and White's sudden accusation of me. Maybe Maya… maybe she noticed; maybe this is her gift to me.

I narrow my eyes warily at the plant. Or maybe it's just a chore.

Either way, I suppose, it's a clear indication, so I let out a breath and stand, filling the watering can and giving Charley his breakfast. I set down the can next to him, turn to go back to my desk, and pause. I look up at the ceiling, back down at the floor, and pull up a chair next to the plant.

"Hey."

Charley does not respond. I smack my palm against my forehead. Of course he doesn't respond; he is— _it_ is a plant.

What am I supposed to do? Treat it like a diary? I can see it now— a brilliant new medical breakthrough, advocated by medical professionals everywhere: plant therapy.

I sigh again. "Hey, Charley. How's it going? Been doing your plant thing?" I pause, eyeing Charley's broad green leaves warily. "Photosynthesis and… all that good stuff? Turning water and sunlight and stale air into your food, yeah, that's just how you do things, isn't it? Regular food? Fuck that, you're just going to make your own."

I stop. What the hell am I saying?

"You're going nuts, Phoenix," I mutter to myself. "Abso-freakin'-lutely nuts."

I could swear I hear Charley chuckle. I narrow my eyes at him for the third time. "Got a problem, plant? Sorry I'm not the best conversationalist in the world, but hey, you're a plant. I must not be as good as Mia, but you're just going to have to deal with me. Mia's… Mia's gone." I lean back in the chair. "But you knew that already, didn't you? Hell, you were here." I raise an eyebrow. "Why didn't you tell me what happened? Could've saved me a lot of trouble and a near heart attack or two." I snort.

Charley sits there in dignified silence.

"Not talking, huh? I can see why. It must have been a horrible experience for you. I wonder if you miss her. Can plants even do that? They say plants grow better if you talk to them. Can you recognize the difference in voices?" I fold my arms. "Mia probably talked to you. I'll bet she was really nice about it, too, considering your attitude and all— she must've been a saint. Or maybe you were just her little pet plant, huh? You were probably a complete angel with her."

I'm quiet for a long time. My head falls back, and I stare at the ceiling. "I'm not… _good_ with this kind of stuff, you know," I finally say. "I mean, I'm a defense attorney, but I might as well get double salary for all the detective work I do. Hell, I've been mistaken for one. Dead bodies and stuff, they don't faze me all that much, not as much as normal people, anyway. You have to shut away all that to be a good, productive attorney. You have to… you have to lock things up and learn not to feel in order to uncover the truth. There's nothing more I wanted to do than shake Mia until something happened, until she laughed and told me it was a joke, to go into shock or cry like Maya did, but I… but first thing I did," I grin wryly, sans the mirth, "I had to look for clues."

I look back at Charley. "Don't judge me. If I hadn't, well, Maya or I would be labeled a murderer, probably on death row. Grief isn't something you can explain… and it's even more complicated when you can't allow yourself to feel any." I close my eyes; I can't look at him. "I feel… I feel like I've locked it away for so long, that I— I want to grieve over Mia, but I don't know how. And when I think about her everything hurts but I don't know how this works so I just… stop thinking about her."

I stop and I look at Charley and I pretend that Mia can hear me. "You're smart, Mia." I smile slightly. "Maya's smart, too. She left that can on my desk and now look where I am. I think she's more like you than she thinks… than I thought." I look down. "But in the end, Maya's Maya, and Mia's Mia. And Mia's gone… you're gone."

My head falls back again, and I close my eyes again. They're burning. Tears escape and fall down from the corners of my eyes to my hairline. I press my lips together.

"I miss you," I confess. "It isn't the same here without you; it never will be. Wright and Co.? Who am I kidding? I'm still a rookie in this business, in life, and you were always there to show me how and I just don't… know how I can go on without you. I didn't know what a staple you were until you were gone, Mia."

A long, long moment of silence passes. I take a deep breath.

"You know, a lot of things remind me of you. Everything, in fact. Even stubbing my toe. Because it's the first time all of it has happened without you here. Death does funny things to people, I guess. I've never experienced it so close, not even when Dollie… when Dahlia… well, I didn't know Doug very well, you know? But you…" I chuckle weakly, and let out a breath. "But you were always like that, weren't you? Giving hints and letting people figure these things out for themselves… I miss you, Mia."


End file.
